


Chances in a Foreign Land

by dyllpickless



Series: TUA Pride Month 2019 [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dave & Klaus Hargreeves During Vietnam, Drug Use, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jewish Dave (Umbrella Academy), Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, TUA Pride Month, Time Travel, Vietnam War, this is longer than initially planned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 10:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19105168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyllpickless/pseuds/dyllpickless
Summary: For day 5 of TUA Pride Month: Coming OutIn which Klaus can't figure out whether Dave is gay or if he's just really uncomfortable.





	Chances in a Foreign Land

The concept of taking things slow was foreign to Klaus. Which was par for the course, given he was in a foreign country in a foreign time period surrounded by people with foreign ideas. Usually, it would be fun to people watch, but Klaus just wanted to do more people and less watching. And by people, he meant Dave.

Dave Katz: the first thing his eyes landed on when he popped into the Hell on Earth that was the Vietnam War. Then again, nowhere with Dave could be called Hell. By some miracle, he made even the heat of their battles calm down a bit. There was this little mantra he would say, just quietly enough that nobody really knew what he was saying. Klaus later realized it was in Hebrew, so it wasn’t like they’d be able to understand it anyway. That didn’t matter, though. Sometimes, Klaus could swear he could hear it over the gunshots, the helicopters, the explosions, the screams. And that sound, be it imagined or not, comforted him enough that he could remember how to fire his gun.

“Klaus. _Spook._ Still with us?”

“Huh?” Suddenly Dave’s sapphire blue eyes and lopsided smile filled his vision and snapped him out of whatever daydream he was sucked into. Too soon, Dave pulled away and sat back into the circle they were all in on the damp jungle floor.

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh.” Klaus looked down at the cards in his hand with light bewilderment. Across from him, one of the other soldiers that was shot in the head the week before nodded. “I call.” He pushed a few more bills into the pool.

“Alright.” Wilson cleared his throat and rubbed his hand together. “Let’s see them then.”

Everybody in the circle laid out their cards onto the lush green carpet. Eyes flicked around the grass, searching for who had the best hand. “Boy, Spook, I’m about done playing with you.” Sitting a few feet outside of the circle, Jeffers shook his head and laughed at all of the men pushing their crumpled bills to Klaus.

“Well, I’m off,” Klaus sighed, stuffing the money into his pockets.

“Good!” Some shouted, while others grumbled that he must be cheating. He was, but they didn’t know that.

“Oh, come on,” Dave complained from his spot next to him. “Play at least one more round. Give me a chance to win my money back.”

Dave’s elbow poking into Klaus’ side was enough to erase any snarky comeback that everybody was expecting. In lieu of trying to force words from his dry mouth, he mutely shook his head, stood, and made his way to his tent. He only had a few moments of silent thought, though, because Dave came into their shared tent soon after.

“You know we’re only razzing you.”

The foreign slang stuck out in his mind. “Yeah,” he choked out. “I’m just tired. Plus, I wanted to quit while I was ahead, you know?”

Dave nodded sagely and sat down on his cot, only about a foot away from Klaus. “My rabbi used to say that a lot.”

Klaus could feel Dave’s eyes on his body when he turned around and pulled his shirt over his head. Or maybe it was just his imagination. _It was probably just my imagination._ He was in the military in the 1960s before Stonewall. _There’s no way that Dave is gay._

  


_Okay, there’s a chance that Dave is gay._ They were all sitting around an imaginary campfire talking about the girls they left back home. When it got to Dave, he was suddenly tripping over his words. His hands were playing with the zipper of his fatigues, his fingertips pressing harder into the zipper when he tried to come up with a girl’s name.

Later on, Klaus was able to pull him to the side. “You didn’t leave a girl behind, did you?”

“Erm, no.” Those perfect blue eyes pointed down at the ground and he ran his hand along the back of his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“I thought your zipper would break off.” His light chuckle was a mask to hide his analyzing gaze behind. “Did you leave anybody behind?”

“Nah, nobody romantic. Just my sister.”

“Oh.” Klaus couldn’t figure out if he should be excited about that or not.

“Yeah. Do you have siblings?”

“Six. Two sisters, four brothers.”

The conversation wasn’t even that interesting, but Dave kept looking at Klaus like he was one of Michelangelo’s sculptures. He was used to getting stares, eyes were on him from the moment he was born, but this was new. This was… nervous, yet intrigued. Klaus could get used to this. _Then again,_ the cynical side thought, _you’re a super flamboyant person in the Vietnam War. It would be weird if you weren’t getting stared at._

  


Six days of R&R was almost unheard of in the 173rd, yet somehow Klaus managed to secure it for the whole squad. Dave sent him more than a few smiles while they were packing, and Klaus’ heart stuttered every single time he did. Nobody even flinched when they heard helicopters overhead: for once, that wasn’t their concern. The only sounds Klaus bothered to pay attention to were the soft rumble of the bus and the light humming from Dave.

Briefcase in one hand and military surplus duffel bag in the other, Klaus climbed onto the khaki green bus with a smile. No more fighting for six days. He’d finally be able to relax and let loose, maybe do drugs in a disco instead of behind the mess tent. And he’d be able to find some civilian clothing. Khaki was officially going to be the death of him, if this war wasn’t, he decided. There was just one problem: he didn’t have any money.

“What’s up, Klaus?”

Klaus snapped out of his thought and looked over at whoever was suddenly squeezed into the bus seat with him. Dave. “Oh. Nothing. Just thinking. What are you planning on doing with your R&R?”

“Well, I need some new civvies.” Klaus perked up at that, which Dave noticed. “You don’t have any, do you?”

He shook his head and resisted the urge to turn away from those blue eyes.

“We can go out together, if you want. My treat.”

That’s how Klaus ended up twirling through an open air market. He couldn’t tell if it was Dave’s eyes burning into his skin, or his imagination. He decided it must be the latter after the third time he looked up at the other man, only to find him scrutinizing a patterned shirt.

“I’m going to try these on,” Klaus announced in a clear voice.

Dave looked up at him, a smile existing only in his eyes, which only Klaus could see. “You go do that. I’ll be over there in a bit.”

Klaus wormed his way into a small area, blocked off from the rest of the world with patterned cloth. He pulled on a striped shirt that showed a bit more of his midriff than what he figured would be completely acceptable on a man in the 1960s and some tight striped pants that made his legs look miles longer than normal. “Davey?” Klaus called through the curtain.

“Yeah?”

“Prepare yourself for the fashion show of your life.”

If there was any doubt sitting in Klaus’ mind that Dave was gay, they all flew out when he stepped out of the dressing room. All of the color ran out of Dave’s face and it was quickly replaced by a bright flush of red, pouring in from the tips of his ears and flowing onto his cheeks. _Or—_ the doubt returned _—you’re just making him uncomfortable. He’s probably not gay._ And so the doubt and worry returned. Since when did Klaus, self-proclaimed tornado of a human being, ever worry about making people uncomfortable? Yet here he was, so worried he thought he might be sick that he made Dave uncomfortable. What made Dave so different?

“What do you think?” He shoved the words through the cotton that was in his mouth.

“Oh, erm, yeah.” Dave ran his hand across the back of his neck. “Looks good, Spook. Take that off—I mean, go change—and I’ll go buy it.”

Klaus had to quickly disappear back into the dressing room to hide his growing concern. “So what’s after this?” He called through the fabric, tossing the clothes to Dave over the top.

“Well, I thought we could go to the local bar.” His voice sounded sheepish and unsure, a sharp contrast from his usual stature. “If you want.”

“Sounds like fun!” There was a manic explosion of color when Klaus burst out into the room. A slight miscalculation on his part, since he was suddenly nose to nose with Dave. Or maybe it was a perfectly calculated move on a level that was something other than his conscience. Either way, suddenly he was inhaling and Dave was exhaling and he remembered that time when he shotgunned in the back of a dark alley with a man whose name he never caught. But this was different. This was Dave.

He realized they’d been standing that close for too long to be normal when Dave cleared his throat and stepped back. “I paid for the clothes.”

“I’m going to change into them real quick. You should change into whatever clothes you got too. I’m tired of all this khaki everywhere.”

In a few moments, they were standing on the sidewalk in their too-American clothes for where they were. Klaus had to push down the overwhelming urge to grab Dave’s hand and lead him down the street _—this is 1968, not 2019._

“It’s barely dark out,” Dave commented. “Should we grab a bite to eat before?”

Something else that was new for Klaus: intentional pregaming. Or, any planning in general. Usually he didn’t have to pregame because he was in a perpetual state of having one foot out of reality from all of the things coursing through his system. Usually, he would go to a bar, get so drunk or high out of his mind that he could barely remember his own name, and pick up the first person that caught his eye. But this was different. Dave made him want to be careful and take things slow. He wanted to savor each moment, lest he blink and accidentally reveal it was all a dream.

So of course he said yes. Of course they chose the warmest, most inviting restaurant they could. Of course they chose the smallest table next to the clearest window. Dave said something to the waitress in adorably clunky Vietnamese and she came back with a steaming plate of something that smelled like Heaven.

Dave’s voice was soft and low as he talked Klaus through how to hold the food. His eyes were kind and warm when he watched Klaus try to take a bite, but most of the toppings slid away. “Here. Like this.” He reached forward and gently placed his fingers around Klaus’ hands and guided them to hold the food correctly. They followed his movement when he leaned in a took a bite.

And it was almost perfect. With his eyes closed, Klaus could imagine it was perfect. But that all broke when Dave’s hands jerked away like he’d been burned. “What?” he mumbled through his full mouth, his eyes snapping open. He quickly swallowed and tried again.

“Nothing. Sorry.” A lifted hand and another waitress was at their side. A few botched words of Vietnamese later and glasses of amber liquid appeared in front of them. “For the, erm…”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”

  


Klaus quickly found that with a little bit of alcohol, suddenly it was a lot easier to stop worrying about whether or not Dave was uncomfortable around him. He just found himself enjoying being around Dave and taking whatever he offered. Not the healthiest way to deal with his unreciprocated teenage movie-esque crush, but it would have to do.

“You know,” Dave shouted over the thumping music pouring out of the club towering before them, “I think tonight’s going to be fun.”

“You think so?”

Dave sent him a knowing smile and led him into the bar. Maybe it was the old music, or the foreign language, but this bar held an energy that Klaus had never felt before. Almost immediately, his squad—his family—saw that he and Dave had entered and greeted them with loud cheers and lots of booze. Though the feeling of fingers on Klaus’ side startled him, he didn’t jump. It was a feeling he was used to—universal no matter where or when he was.

But instead of a strange man offering a deal, suddenly all Klaus could see was Dave leaning in. _It’s happening. He’s going to kiss me._ He leaned in too. But then Dave turned and moved his lips right next to Klaus’ ear. Any disappointment evaporated, though, because Dave’s breath danced across Klaus’ skin. “Let’s go get some shots.”

Klaus nodded dumbly and then Dave’s hand was around his arm and he was being led to the bar. They both fell against it with a bit of an awed laugh at how packed the joint was. There was a chance of a blush sitting across Dave’s cheekbones, but it could just be the mood lighting. He leaned in to get a closer look, but stumbled when Dave turned away. “Eight shots of whiskey, please.”

Then he and Dave had two columns of glasses arranged in front of them and whiskey was flowing into them like when they dipped their canteens into the river. They quickly downed the first one, before Dave leaned even further in and spoke in his ear: “We should link arms on the next one.”

And who was Klaus to refuse? Dave’s arm was warm and muscular and electric against his and too soon it disappeared to grab another glass to empty. Then another. A peal of exhilarated laughter escaped Klaus’ lips. “Let’s go get more.”

So they were stumbling back over to the bar. Klaus reached there first, but then suddenly he felt Dave against him and he wanted nothing more than to run far away from everything with that man. Instead, two women appeared on either side of the pair of men and separated them.

Klaus let himself get dragged onto the dance floor, but soon the person that brought him out disappeared with another man, who was surely had intentions that involved giving the woman some month. But music coursed through his veins, much more potent than the drugs and alcohol could ever hope to be and he found that he couldn’t care less. He danced. He was a flurry of flung arms and kicked legs, twisting low then rocketing high. At some point, he collided with another body and he whirled around.

Dave.

Not knowing what else to do, Klaus held up a joking fist and shook it at him. But the jest faded and all that existed—all that had ever existed—was him and Dave. Dave’s crystal blue eyes, that were locked with his. Everything stopped. It was just Dave.

And then he was leaning in again and Klaus thought he was finally going to give him that kiss. “Wanna go somewhere quieter?”

Yes. Fuck yes. Right now. Klaus nodded like his life depended on it. It felt like there was a chance that it did.

Dave put his hand on the small of Klaus’ back--he didn’t think he’d ever felt this safe and warm in his life—and led him out of the main room. “I think there’s a… ah, yes!” They pushed through a small beaded curtain and that was their world.

“I like it here,” Klaus hummed, looking only at Dave.

“Me too.” He smiled that lopsided grin and looked around the small area they were in. “It’s not very clean or anything--I think this place would get shut down in a heartbeat back in the states--but it’s nice.”

“I meant here as in Vietnam,” Klaus laughed. “But this bar is nice too.” He backtracked when he saw the confused look on Dave’s face. There was a chance that it was the adorable crinkle at the corner of Dave’s eyes that made him suddenly want to open up, and there was just as equal of a chance that it was just the mixture of alcohol and drugs in his system. “Back home, nobody treated me like you guys do. Here, I mean something.”

Dave frowned at that and shifted so he was leaning against the wall too. “Why don’t they treat you well?”

“They just don’t take me seriously. I’m expendable to them. Just their dumbass gay brother that--” he paused, realizing what he just said. “Fuck.”

He braced himself, expecting Dave to freak out. _Of course you had to go and out yourself in 1968 in the military. The one fucking place—_

“I am too,” Dave said quietly, the lopsided smile making its way back onto his lips.

_There is definitely a 100% chance that Dave is gay._

“Why aren’t you surprised?”

God, the confused look on Dave’s face made Klaus’ knees turn to jelly. He was suddenly very glad they were both leaning against the wall. “I hoped you were since the moment I saw you,” he confessed. _That’s new. Since when do I confess things?_

It didn’t take a trained eye to see the confidence in Dave slowly building. “Oh really?”

“But I was worried I was making you uncomfortable.”

Dave chuckled and a gentle hand caressed his cheek. “I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” There were a few beats where nobody spoke, when Klaus was stunned into silence by the man before him. Then: “I’m going to kiss you now.” Dave leaned in and it was actually happening.

Klaus wasn’t used to being touched with the tenderness that Dave had. He was used to sharp yanks on his hair, slaps across the face, kicks to the stomach. Yet, here he was in the back of a bar in a foreign country in a foreign time, and suddenly he was learning that there was a chance that didn’t have to be all of the touches he got. There was a chance of something more. Something better. Something with love. Dave.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3 Comments and kudos are much appreciated!


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